


Forgotten Battles

by CharlieQuinn



Category: Firefly, Trigun
Genre: Anime, Crossover, Gen, Post Serenity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:07:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieQuinn/pseuds/CharlieQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal picks up a strange guy on a deserted planet.</p><p>Written in 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Battles

Mal is not really sure why he's let the man in the red duster on his boat. The guy had the money to pay, and Mal supposed that was certainly one reason...

He guessed he just felt sorry for the guy. His lips made smiling movements, but he looked so alone. That was to be expected though, after all, it had been over ten years since the population of Gunsmoke had been wiped out, and it was right on the edge of the outer rim. It would likely be over another ten years before the guy got a another chance of getting off that rock.

Mal had been surprised there was anyone left at all. They'd only stopped there because River said they should. He was getting used to the fact that River's hunches always paid off.

Also, there were those eyes. Mal saw too much of himself reflected back in the stranger's too blue eyes. Eyes that had seen too much, eyes that had seen death and suffering and could do nothing to stop it. Eyes that were just too damn old, peering out of the kid's spikey haired face.

Mal was sitting in the galley when the stranger asked if he could do anything. 'Earn his keep', he said.

"The boat's in the air, and you've given us the money. Don't rightly think I could go askin' you to cook," Mal said with a shrug.

"I like helping people," the stranger said earnestly. "I just like people."

Mal raised an eyebrow. He wondered just how long the guy had gone without human contact. "What in the gorram hell where you doing on that damn dustball, anyway?"

The stranger sat, and sighed loudly, propping his chin up with one glove covered hand. "It was my home," he said. "I had to look after it. I was asked to take care of it."

"That wasn't no one's fault," Mal said with a snort. "It was a tragedy, what happened there, but tragedy's happen all round the 'verse, and it's hardly ever any one person's fault."

The stranger shook his head. Looked at his arm. Mal failed to see what was so interesting about an arm.

"I mean, the gorram moon blew up," Mal continued. "That's not something that just happens everyday. That ain't something you can plan for."

The stranger leveled Mal with a gaze. His eyes again, he looked... For the first time in a long time, Mal felt like he didn't know a thing. He wanted to look away, and found he couldn't, watching the stranger's eyes become glassy with unshed tears for a planet full of people who didn't exist anymore.

"I did it."

The stranger's voice was so soft, Mal almost didn't hear him.

"I did it. I blew up the fourth moon. The hole in the fifth moon. That was me, too."

"That was over a decade ago. You would have been just a kid," Mal said flatly.

The stranger just shrugged, neither confirming or denying.

"Who are you?" Mal asked.

"My name is Vash. Vash the Stampede. I searched for a long time, I hunted for peace, and the elusive mayfly known as love. But I never found them. The opposite found me." The stranger gazed at Mal again, as if daring him to contradict.

"A man could do a lot with what the Alliance is offerin' for your head..." Mal began slowly.

Vash sighed.

"A helluva lot more than what's on mine," Mal finished.

A smile, finally. Vash had such sad eyes. Now knowing who he was, Mal knew why.

"I heard about the Alliance," Vash said. "And I want to know why they sent my brother and I here. Was it destiny? Or an experiment?"

Mal just watched as the legendary gunmen pulled out a lethal looking handgun. "I have only ever pulled the trigger to kill once. No one has the right to decide who lives or dies."

Mal worked his jaw. "But the moon..."

"...Was not a choice. It was forced upon me."

Vash looked thoughtful. "I want to talk to the Alliance. I want to ask them a few questions."

Mal thought, This man could destroy us all. Or save us all. A living legend is sitting in my boat's galley...

Instead, he said, "I have to get back up the bridge. Help yourself to something to eat."

Vash nodded, and looked at his arm again. He didn't speak.

Mal shook his head and went back to the bridge.

"It's him, isn't it?" River asked before he'd had a chance to sit down. "Vash the Stampede."

Mal nodded.

"You should help him," River went on. "He should help you."

Mal nods again, distracted by his own thoughts.

But he wonders.


End file.
